This is the personal blog of Sarah Marslender. A couple years ago, I moved to Kuwait with my family. This blog is a place for me to update family and friends. Here I talk about running, parenting, faith, teaching, cooking and baking, reading and writing, exploring, and learning to be content. Sometimes I overthink. You can call me on that.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Home. One of them, right? This week I head to Wisconsin with the two little ones. And while I am very excited to visit with family, I'm also a little nervous about the flights and, you know, I'm not sure what to expect from the States.

I had a difficult time returning to Wisconsin after just one year in Colombia. And the summer between Colombia and Kuwait was just nuts since we were deciding what to cram into six suitcases for our new life in the Middle East. This summer should be relaxed. No move to prepare for. Instead, at the end of August, we'll be returning to a home we've made: our apartment walls are ours, we've got wardrobes and cabinets and drawers full of our stuff, we know the grocery store and our favorite restaurants. We'll miss being here.

I think that's a good thing.

Two years away. Wow. In the past two years Claire learned to walk and talk and has quite the personality. We had a son, sweet boy Grant who might be the most cheerful baby I've ever met. We've traveled a bit. I committed to a writing habit (if you're going to pick a habit...). I decided treadmills in and of themselves are not evil. We found a church we like and are developing a deeper faith. We have friends here. Kuwait is a dusty land - dust that collects on window ledges like sifted flour, dust that hangs in the air like fog - and we like it.

Not the dust, but the land. Kuwait. I can't really talk about Kuwait without getting soap-boxy or sentimental and I haven't got the time for either right now. Just to say: I don't regret moving abroad. We don't live anywhere glamorous but our eyes are open. This is our fourth year abroad and getting ready to take a trip home, well, that home is beginning to seem a little foreign too. What won't feel foreign is my family's dining table or my college town running routes. What won't feel foreign is a bear hug from my Dad. Oh, it'll be good to be home. Yes, it will.